Fated
by DragonMage
Summary: H/D. When a mischievous young noble and a on-the-run Veela bump into one another, they end up learning the difference between lust and love.


Fated  
By: DragonMage  
  
Notes: After being so obsessed with reading Harry Potter slash fanfiction between my favorite characters, Michi--my dearest Jie Jie--decided it was time that I started writing about them as well. Heh. Sooo. . .Here it is!! I hope it isn't too bad. . .  
  
Pairings: Harry/Draco  
Warnings: Slash Romance, AU, Adventure/Action, Sexual Themes  
Rating: NC-17  
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, etc. The usual disclaimer  
  
"Better new friend than an old foe."   
---Spencer  
  
Chapter 1  
Summer of 1601. . .Outside of Tanter Woods, England  
  
Letting go of another burp, Harlow Potter sighed deeply and patted the slight rise of his full stomach. He closed his eyes and relaxed into the sweet smelling grass in which he was lying and simply enjoyed the moment. Life was perfect and Harry (which he had dubbed himself since 'Harlow' was the worst name a set of parents could give a child in all of England) was never more satisfied or at peace with the world than he was at that moment.   
  
After his usual lessons, he had managed to steal a meat pie as well as a bottle of wine from the kitchen *without* any of the cooks noticing and had one of the best breakfast/dinners in all his sixteen years. Getting smashed on pie and wine had to be on the top of his list of fun things to do. Of course that had been *hours* ago; the sun already gone and the sky was scattered with stars. The wind was warm, as it usually is in the middle of a hot summer, and he didn't need the cloak he had brought with himself just in case of a chill. Of course the wine in his blood stream also had something to do with his warmth. He wasn't completely drunk (he had better tolerance than that!) but instead was at that perfect place where nothing mattered except lying there and enjoying himself.   
  
He wasn't worried about anyone missing him. He had been running off without warning since he was eleven years old. Everyone in the Castle, including his parents, had gotten used to it and trusted him not to get into too much trouble. That usually meant he was to stay out of town where all the 'bad' children played and find another way to amuse himself. He didn't listen to them, of course, but he always made it appear as if their word was law. His parents saw him as the perfect child and he liked to humour them. It wasn't *his* fault so many girls found him utterly charming enough for a little fun behind the local stables, or that several boys thought it'd be fun to pick on a boy who was already wearing glasses at his age. It didn't matter the glasses made him look very intelligent and charming and adorable; he wore glasses. That was enough incentive to try and beat him up. It was just too bad boys weren't as simple to dazzle as girls. The shopkeepers were the easiest to charm and they *never* noticed the few missing items after he had visited them.  
  
Naturally his parents knew nothing of this. When he came home with a bruise he usually told them he had fallen or some other lame story they would readily accept. They would then smile, tell him to be careful, and kiss him on the cheek before ordering him to wash up for dinner. He had never been caught before and quite frankly, he wasn't expecting to get caught until he was ninety. By then he'd be on his deathbed and no one can punish someone on their deathbed, right? Of course.   
  
So while Harry was feeling smug and content about his situation in life he didn't bother to hear the angry shouts or the pounding of heavy feet on the grass and dirt. His eyes were closed, a contented smile on his lips, and a blissful expression on his lightly tanned face.   
  
What he did notice, a few moments later, was the soft-soled foot that had suddenly buried itself in his stomach.   
  
"ARGH!!"   
  
Whoosh! The air immediately expelled itself from his lungs from pure force of pressure. He was left desperately gasping like a fish on land, seeing nothing but black and an occasional explosion of white stars across his vision. When he finally caught his breath, he quickly rolled onto his side and into another body.   
  
"Get off of me!!" a frantic voice shouted in his ear. Hands pushed at his chest but they weren't strong enough to get his 5'11, one hundred and sixty-five pound body into motion. He was too dazed to do anything but lie there.  
  
He did, however, quickly come to his senses when he heard a loud explosion and fire filled the air not but three feet away from him.   
  
Well...bloody hell! Where did *that* come from??  
  
"Missed!" a sinister-like hiss came from the dark.  
  
Harry quickly scrambled to his feet and pulled out his wand--eleven inches of holly wood and phoenix feather, something he was damn proud of--and swiftly countered with a nifty spell he had picked up from a crazy wizard on one of his excursions into town--and everywhere else his legs could take him. His parents never did allow him a horse after the Marigold Incident.  
  
The night sky lit up with small balls light and he caught a glimpse of his attackers before everything exploded into fire. He could hear screams of pain as the rain of flames came down on thick robes and hair. He could smell it all burning as he stood there, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. He hadn't expected it to work, after all. The guy from whom he had gotten it *was* crazy.  
  
"Quit standing there!! Once that spell finishes, they'll be after *both* of us!" a low voice hissed at him. A small hand grabbed at his robes and he was suddenly tugged in. . .a direction. He stumbled behind the shorter person, attempting to find his feet, before they were crashing through the nearby woods. They ran until neither of them could hear the screams of the burning men. They finally staggered to a stop after what seemed like an hour of running (when in reality it was only ten minutes). Harry collapsed against a tree, desperately trying to breathe. He bent over, elbows leaning heavily into his knees, and he continued to gasp and heave for precious air.   
  
He looked up through messy bangs to see a darkly robed figure standing across from him. The other person wasn't even breathing that hard as the shrouded head moved side to side, looking for anything suspicious or anything resembling the a hoard of pursuing attackers.   
  
"Do you think. . .they're gone?" Harry asked between heavy breaths. The head whipped around as if suddenly noticing he was there.   
  
"I. . .don't know."   
  
It was dark and Harry couldn't make out whether or not the person he was talking to was male or female. First was the loose robe and hood that covered the slim, short body, and second was the low voice. It was too soft and indistinct. He couldn't get any clues to this person's sex from it. It could have been either a girl or boy.   
  
"Who *are* you?" Harry straightened out, a hand pressed to his sore stomach. He was still smarting from having a *foot* being drove into it. Breathing so hard after that run didn't help it much either; it only aggravated it further. He was beginning to wonder if a bruise was going to show up there in the next hour or so. It was more than likely.   
  
"I don't think that's important," the low voice replied. The person reached up and tugged the hood further forward to cover his or her features more securely. "In fact, I think it's best if you don't know." A pause, then, "Thank you for saving me back there. Even if you *were* the reason why I tripped in the first place. What were you doing out there, laying on the grass in the middle of the night? Are you some vagabond?"   
  
"Vagabond??" Harry bristled, feeling insulted. "I'll have you know that I come from a perfectly respectable family!"   
  
"What did they do? Throw you out?" Amusement was clear in that low voice and Harry was beginning to get an inkling of this person's sex. It was too arrogant and insolent. It *had* to be a boy.   
  
"No! I was simply enjoying myself when you decided to *step* on me," Harry retorted, crossing his arms and tilting his head. "Question should be why you're running from those men. What did you do? *Steal* from them?"  
  
"I would *never* steal," came the insulted response. "I have more dignity than that. And money."   
  
"Then what happened?" Harry demanded tauntingly. "I should at least know why I just risked my neck for you. I could have happily ran away, back home, and left you there. Well, I *would* have if you didn't decide to drag me along with you. . ."  
  
A deep breath, and the person sounded exasperated, as if he was trying to contain his annoyance. /As if the boy had any right to be annoyed!/ Harry thought.   
  
"I'm sorry. I didn't think. Of course I should have left you with them so they could recover while you congratulated yourself with a pat on the back and incinerate you!!" The last part was shouted, echoing in the quiet woods.   
  
"Oh, stop it. You're getting your knickers knotted all up. Where are we now?" Harry didn't feel like arguing anymore and quickly dropped the subject. Arguing never got a person anywhere, besides. There were more important things to concern himself with.   
  
"I don't know. I've never been in these woods. You live around here, don't you? Shouldn't you be able to figure that out?" the person asked, sounding a bit uncertain.  
  
"It's dark and there is no moon out right now. I can't see where we are. After all, I'm not one to run into woods at night." Harry pointed out as he began to really look around. Trees and bushes surrounded them all around, the night so dark there were almost no shadows being cast. He sighed and tried to find *some* familiar landmark but there were none. There were only trees, trees and more trees. Oh, and shadows and creepers and other assorted nasty things Harry didn't want to think about at the moment. He turned back to the figure and frowned. "At least throw off your hood. I hate talking to someone whose face I don't know."   
  
The person hesitated for a moment before a hand reached out and pushed back the hood. At first Harry couldn't see anything because there was no light, but the clouds decided to move at that moment, revealing the moon and stars.   
  
Harry had to remind himself to breathe.   
  
He had never really been interested in boys before. He had to admit that a few of them were pretty good looking and deserved a second glance. With so many pretty girls out there in the world, he didn't have to bother finding company with men. But one glimpse at this stranger's face was more than enough to convince him that boys weren't bad at all and *definitely* worth a second glance--and maybe a kiss or grope, or two. In fact, the stranger had got to be one of the most beautiful boys he had ever laid eyes on.   
  
Silvery white hair reflected in the low moonlight, casting a halo-like glow around the boy's face. His eyes were exotic and cat-like, the irises a stormy blend of blue and gray. His nose was small, cute yet proud at the same time and his lips looked as sweet and sensual as a girl's. Harry couldn't see what color they were in the half-light but he could be sure they were probably rose pink. All of this was set in a delicately shaped face with skin as pale as vanilla and smooth as porcelain.  
  
/Beautiful. . ./ was the first coherent thing that came to Harry's mind as he stood there and stared.  
  
The boy shifted, nervous, and it broke Harry from the spell that had wove itself around Harry the moment the boy had lowered his hood.   
  
"Uh. . ." Harry swallowed and took a deep breath to calm the sudden heat that had risen in him only to pool, embarrassingly, in his loins. He reached up and tugged lightly at his collar while spreading his legs a bit to ease up on the tension developing there. Suddenly the air was very, *very* warm. "What. . .what's your name?" His words came out a bit breathless and Harry felt his cheeks flush. He was making a fool of himself behaving like this!  
  
The boy bit his lower lip, a small hand reaching up to brush back the silver strands from his eyes. Indecision was clear in his crystal eyes.   
  
"I won't hurt you," Harry told him, trying to reassure the beautiful creature even as his mind came up all sorts of things he could do that would be far, far from any sort of hurt or pain. Many of them involved the pale boy pinned underneath him. Well, okay, all of them. And rope. Lots and lots of rope. . .made of velvet. . .Hmm. . .  
  
Clearing his throat, the boy's hand fluttered down to his slim neck, delicate fingers brushing against the soft skin in a nervous gesture. Harry almost groaned and came close to attacking the boy. He took a step back even as his breathing became more laboured.   
  
"Draco," the boy suddenly said, breaking the thick silence.   
  
"Draco," Harry repeated softly. He managed a friendly smile even as his arousal burned harder and deeper. Draco was a perfect name for such an exotically beautiful boy. "My name is Harlow but call me Harry. Harlow's a horrible name." There that was safe. Harry took another deep breath.   
  
"Yes, it is," Draco agreed. "Harry's a better name." He smiled although it was a bit thin. But then who would be perfectly at ease when they're being chased?   
  
Harry felt his heart leap just a bit at Draco's compliment. Suddenly he wanted to do anything he could to have more praise be bestowed upon him by the charming boy. He was about to take a step forward but quickly stopped himself before he did anything foolish. He didn't want to scare Draco off. No, that would be the last thing he wanted. He had to keep Draco around as long as possible. Maybe even forever. He knew he couldn't allow Draco to slip from his grasp before he could be allowed to sleep with him. Yes, oh yes, he *had* to bed Draco. There wasn't a single doubt in his mind what he wanted to do.   
  
"Harry," Draco said softly. "Do you know how to get out of these woods? We can't stay here forever. We'll get caught."   
  
Nodding almost dumbly, Harry began to look around. The moon was still out and it made the surroundings clearer than before. He suddenly spotted a boulder that he remembered passing by a few times on the way into town. If they walk in the west of it, they would reach the Castle.   
  
"This way." Harry pointed in a direction and looked over at Draco. "Come on. It's not that long of a walk but we better hurry."   
  
Draco nodded and they soon set off. Harry was ahead of a few paces since he was leading but he wished Draco would pull up so they could walk side-by-side. The pale boy entranced him and he had to stop from turning his head over and over again to look at him. There was more than physical beauty to Draco but Harry couldn't really put his finger down on what it could be. All he could think about was how many layers Draco was actually wearing and how he could get them off in record time.   
  
They finally reached the end of the forest and crossed a small stream before they finally reached the Castle. Relief filled Harry at the sight of his home and he suddenly couldn't wait to get inside and crawl underneath the covers of his bed. Harry looked over at Draco, who was staring up at the impressive structure with curious eyes, and motioned for him to follow him around the back. It was late and Harry didn't want to disturb anyone. The kitchen door was always open since the servants were always cooking up something and the door allowed ventilation for all the smoke coming from the several fires.  
  
"Will anyone see us?" Draco asked quietly. It was the first words he had said since they started their trek through the forest to the Castle.   
  
Harry bit his lip. "I don't know. A few servants might still be up." He reached out and placed a comforting hand on Draco's shoulder, ignoring the shiver of desire racing through him at the touch. "Don't worry though. They won't ask any questions. That's what your afraid of, aren't you?"   
  
"I don't want to get caught," Draco said instead.   
  
"Well, neither do I," Harry murmured. He lifted his hand from Draco's shoulder and started walking again. "Come on." Draco obediently followed.   
  
They had managed to get past the sleeping servants in the kitchen, through a few hallways and were on their way up the stairs when they were stopped.   
  
"Harlow Potter!" a low stern voice called out before all the candles lit up around them. Standing at the top of the stairs was a dark haired man wrapped in a blue robe with a red haired woman next to him in a purple robe.   
  
Harry winced for a moment. He quickly changed his expression into an amicable one and slapped a sweet smile on his face. He raced up the stairs and hugged his mother before hugging his father.   
  
"Hello, Mother. Father. How are you on this fine evening?" Harry asked cheerfully as he looked from parent to parent. He hoped--though it was unlikely--that they hadn't noticed Draco. The pale boy had pulled up his hood and was not making a single sound.   
  
"Why were you out so late this time, Harlow?" Lilian Potter asked warmly as she reached out and stroked back her son's messy bangs.   
  
"Sorry, Mum. I just. . .fell asleep on the grass and woke up too late. I hadn't meant to," Harry said, trying to look sorry.   
  
"We were worried sick!" Jarold Potter exclaimed as he pulled his only son into his arms and hugged him again. "The neighbors had called through the fire, jabbering about some fire appearing in the middle of the woods. You weren't there, were you?"   
  
Harry opened his mouth to reply but his mother cut him off.   
  
"Harlow, who is that down there?" Lilian asked curiously as she looked past her son and at the dark figure still standing there.   
  
/Damn!/ Harry thought frantically as he whirled around and looked down at Draco. He turned back to his parents. "Oh? Him? He's. . .ah, someone I met in town! He didn't have a place to stay so I figured it wouldn't hurt to bring him here. . ."   
  
"Harlow, what have I told you about bringing strangers into the house?" Jarold demanded sternly.  
  
"And from town!" Even Lilian looked disapproving. "You don't know what they are capable of. How can you be sure you can trust this person?"   
  
"He's harmless," Harry hedged. He really didn't know if Draco was harmless or not but he wasn't going to tell his parents *that*! "Besides, haven't you always told me to help out the unfortunate? He really doesn't have a place to stay and it's only for one night. How bad can that be? He'll stay in my room the whole time. . ." /Oh definitely the whole time if I can help it,/ his mind couldn't help add. Another shiver of heat shimmied through him.   
  
"He doesn't look harmless," Jarold said skeptically. "Why does he have his hood pulled over like that?"   
  
"He's. . .er. . .shy!" Harry blurted out.   
  
"Strange boy," Lilian murmured. "Well, ask him to come up here."   
  
Harry took a deep breath and turned around. "Draco, come up here. My parents want to meet you."   
  
Draco hesitated for a moment before he nodded and gracefully made his way up the stairs. Harry couldn't help but note how Draco seemed to glide up them without any trouble whatsoever. His robe didn't hamper him once at all! Harry swallowed hard and licked his lips, hoping his parents didn't see the sudden flush across his cheeks. He fought against the urge to bring Draco into his arms and maybe see if that smooth skin was really as soft as it looked.   
  
Stopping in front of the Potter family, Draco reached up and pulled back his hood, allowing it to fall back easily and shook his silvery strands loose. Harry was smug to see that even his parents were a bit stunned at Draco's physical beauty.   
  
"Good evening, my Lord and my Lady," Draco murmured accordingly.  
  
Lilian was the first to regain her senses. "Our son invited you here?"   
  
"Yes. I hope that isn't of any inconvenience. I didn't have a place to stay. You see, I am new to this area and had been robbed. . ." Draco lowered his eyes, thick lashes concealing his incredible eyes in a sorrowful gesture. "I didn't want to be of any trouble but your son was very kind to offer to take me in. I only need to stay one night and then I'll be on my way. I have family waiting for me."   
  
"I don't think he'll be of an inconvenience whatsoever, Lilian," Jarold suddenly proclaimed in a voice full of warmth. Lilian raised her eyebrows and jabbed her husband in the side a bit. He winced and smiled apologetically. Harry flushed even deeper and tried not to shout that Draco was *his*; he found him first, after all!  
  
Lilian's expression softened and she gently took Draco's elbow. "Very well. We will prepare a guest room for you--"   
  
"He can stay in mine, Mother," Harry interuppted hastily. "Then you won't have to wake up the servants and disturb them. I don't mind. At all. Really."   
  
Jarold raised an eyebrow and tried not to laugh. Lilian shot him a look before nodded in agreement.   
  
"You're right, of course. Very well. Take him to your room, Harry. And be a good host. Your father and I will retire now." She turned her husband and grabbed his arm. "Come, Jarold. We have things to talk about."   
  
Jarold looked at her, startled. "What--? I didn't do anything!"   
  
"Of course," Lilian said soothingly but her grip didn't loosen at all. "But there are some things that we must have cleared between us. . ."   
  
Harry and Draco watched in amusement as the two disappeared down the hall, Jarold protesting his apparent guilt the entire time.   
  
"Well." Harry turned to Draco. "That was strange."   
  
"Yes," Draco murmured. He smiled softly. "Can we get to your room, now? I'm awfully tired and I want to get a head start on tomorrow."   
  
"You're really going to leave?" Harry asked regretfully.   
  
"Yes." Draco turned expectantly. "Well? Where is your room?"   
  
Harry smiled and lead the way. His room was at the end of the hallway and had a strong lock spell on it so no one could ever get in. A teenage boy, after all, needed his privacy. A password whisper, a turn of the lock and they were inside. Harry took his wand out of his pocket and lit all the candles in the room so there was light to see by and threw open the curtains to allow the moonlight to stream in as well. He turned around and watched as Draco looked around the place with his usual curiosity.   
  
"Why don't you go bathe while I find something for you to wear?" Harry asked innocently as he walked over to the door that lead to the bathing room and pushed it open. He raised his wand and lit all the candles inside. He then turned on the taps of the water in the bathtub and left it running. He stepped back into the room to find Draco sitting on the edge of his bed. Harry couldn't deny that Draco looked absolutely perfect sitting there. He looked like he truly belonged there.   
  
Draco looked up at Harry with grateful eyes. "Thank you so much for doing this for me. I know we just met and I almost got you hurt. You didn't have to do this," he said softly. His voice was sweet, low and utterly seductive. Harry felt his heart speed up and his breath stutter.   
  
"Well. . ." Harry tried to shrug nonchalantly. No one had ever made him feel this way before! He was always in control of the situation but ever since Draco showed up he'd stuttered and bumbled around like an idiot. He was usually more smooth than this. The lame excuse he had given his parents was poking at him in annoyance. He could have came up with something *much* better if he was in his right mind. Draco simply scattered all coherent thought in him.   
  
Standing up from the bed, Draco walked over to Harry and stopped in front of him. Harry was wondering what he was doing when the shorter boy leaned up on his tip toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. The pale boy smiled sweetly before moving past Harry and into the bathroom. The door closed firmly behind him. A few moments later, Harry could distinctly hear the dropping of clothing onto the floor and a body lowering itself into the water.   
  
Taking a deep, deep breath, Harry shook himself out of his daze. He reached up and pressed his fingertips to the spot burning from where Draco had kissed him. It had been an innocent kiss. Nothing to get too excited over.   
  
But try telling that to Little Harry.  
  
~*~  
Draco sighed happily as he dipped the soft wash cloth into the scented water and began to wash himself. He couldn't believe how good it felt to get all the dirt and grit off after running around for days without a bath. He hated being unclean but it hadn't exactly been a choice. It was hard to find time to take care of one's hygiene when they're being chased by evil, ugly men after all. Draco scowled as he rubbed just a bit harder to get away a particularly stubborn dirt mark on his arm. He dipped the cloth back into the water and began to contemplate his situation.   
  
What was he going to do? Thanks to Harry he had been able to escape his pursuers for the night, but what about the next day? They had been relentlessly tracking him down and trying to capture him since he managed to escape from their prison a few weeks ago. Only through sense of self-preservation and utter stubbornness had he been able to successfully wiggle loose from their grasp every time they came close to getting him. He hoped his luck wasn't going to run out any time soon. He would need it as long as he carried the Crystal with him. He closed his eyes and clenched his fist tightly as he thought of the thing that had brought him so much trouble since he had acquired it.   
  
Sudden frustration, anger and fear of his situation made him push all thoughts away from his head and focus on washing himself. This was probably going to be his only chance to be clean in a very long time. He might as well enjoy it.   
  
And enjoy it he did. He probably spent close to an hour in there, washing every inch of his body. He only stopped when the water finally got cold. Stepping out of the tub, he snatched a close-by robe and slipped it on, tying the belt firmly around his slim waist. He grabbed a small towel and began to gently towel dry his hair. When he managed to work most of the water out of his hair and deemed himself as presentable as possible without any real clothes on, he opened the door and stepped into the main bedroom.   
  
His host was lying on the bed, dressed in a dark blue dressing gown, his eyes closed in what seemed to be sleep with his hand over the edge of the bed. As much as he hated to admit it, the messy-haired boy looked absolutely adorable like that. Draco smiled slightly as he walked over to chair draped with another dressing gown made of a silvery gray material and slipped it on. He was just stringing the last loop near the top of the dressing gown and tying it off when he heard Harry stir behind him. Taking a deep breath and centering his mind, Draco turned around and smiled sweetly.   
  
"Did I wake you up?" he asked apologetically.   
  
Harry blinked at him before smiling goofily. "No. No, you didn't." His eyes moved over Draco's body. Emerald green irises darkened with lust. "You look really nice in that."   
  
Draco tilted his head coyly, allowing a lock of his silvery hair to fall over his eyes and deepened his smile. He continued to gently exude his charm as he walked over to the bed and sat down near Harry's legs. The boy's breathing began to pick up.   
  
"Thank you. You picked a good color for me," he said softly. He looked directly into Harry's eyes and caught the boy in a thrall. Harry's eyes glazed over and his expession became dreamy. Draco had been working on the boy ever since he dropped his hood and allowed Harry to take his fill of him. He didn't trust Harry and couldn't risk the boy giving him up to his enemies on purpose or by accident. If he kept the boy entranced he could ensure Harry would never speak a word of him and thus keeping himself safe for at least a while longer. He couldn't risk Harry reacting to him negatively and pushing him away to fend for himself, even though he was sure that Harry would have helped him anyway. Lust or no lust.  
  
He had eased up during the confrontation between Harry and his parents. It wouldn't have helped to have Harry panting at him in front of them. Although he had used his talent to urge Harry's parents into taking him in. Like all men, Jarold had taken to it quicker than Lilian. It was always easier to influence a male due to the fact that they were more susceptible to charms than females. Females were always better at resisting such things since they were usually shrewd and careful creatures. It was also because they did the same thing Draco had been doing all the time. They knew of their game and didn't fall prey to it easily.   
  
Men, on the other hand, were simply too easy.   
  
"Do you really have to go tomorrow?" Harry asked in sudden distress. His eyes tensed in displeasure and he looked upset.   
  
"Yes," Draco answered slowly. "I have to. I can't stay for too long, not unless I want them to get me."   
  
"Of course," Harry whispered hoarsely. He bit his lower lip and sat up, his shoulders tense. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"   
  
Draco lowered his eyes to hide his surprise. Rarely did a victim of his thralls offered to do anything for him without his influence or a certain choice of words. He was a bit upset to note that Harry was truly a good person. He hated putting good people through this. No one appreciates having another person control their minds, especially someone who isn't totally human.  
  
"No," the pale boy finally murmured. He shook his head. "No. There is nothing you can do." He raised his eyes. "Thank you though, Harry. That was very nice of you." He smiled. "Is there a place where I can sleep?"   
  
Harry eagerly scooted over on the bed. "You can sleep here."   
  
Smiling indulgently, Draco took Harry's offer and slid onto the bed gracefully. His movements were no longer practiced but rather became something part of himself. He had been trained to do this sort of thing since he was a child and no longer had to think about how he carried himself. He smoothly lay down on the bed, his head coming to rest on a soft, fluffy pillow. The covers were pulled over the both of them and Harry extinguished the candlelights, leaving the room lit only by the moonlight streaming in through the windows.   
  
Draco was almost asleep when a soft whisper from Harry woke him up. He turned his head and found the pair of striking green eyes looking at him again. He smiled serenely.   
  
"Yes, Harry?"   
  
"Can I hold you?" The question was tentative and hesitant but without a doubt had to be voiced. Harry's anguished need was palpable.  
  
Draco scooted closer to Harry and laid his head on the darker boy's shoulder. Immediately a pair of strong arms wrapped around him and all he could smell was Harry. Feeling a strange sense of security and comfort, he released his hold on Harry and melted into the embrace.  
  
~*~  
The next morning Harry woke up with his arms empty and the room warm with a flood of sunlight. He tried not to moan in his distress as he searched the room with his eyes for any sign of Draco. As was expected, there was none. The boy had left without almost no trace of him but the imprint of his body in Harry's arms.   
  
Falling back on the bed, Harry closed his eyes and grabbed the pillow Draco had lain his head on the night before. As he brought the pillow close to his face, a flutter of paper startled him. He dropped the pillow on his chest and grabbed at the floating thing. He blinked and read it:   
  
Harry,  
  
Thank you for letting me stay the night. I'll be forever grateful to you for saving my life. (Even if it *was* by accident.)   
  
Draco  
  
~*End Chapter 1*~  
Oh, my god. . .I finally finished this damn chapter. YES!! I hoped it was good! *falls over in exhaustion* 


End file.
